Reparations
by Srin
Summary: Jareth is ordered to make reparations, but could do to pay a little more attention in the process..... pg-13 for slight swearing and alcohol consumption
1. Sorry for the Inconvenience

Author's Note: Just an idea that popped into my head. Don't know if there will be any more chapters, but it's possible if there's an interest. This doesn't have any connection to my other story, Sparkle, although the reflection from that might show up if there are later chapters. Enjoy!  
  
***  
  
"I want to talk about the children, Jareth."  
"What chil- Oh."  
"Yes."  
"What about them?"  
"I think you know, Jareth."  
"But they asked for them to be taken! They said the words!"  
"That doesn't make it ok, Jareth."  
"They /asked/!"  
"Jareth, that's no excuse. I want you to make reparations." His shoulders slumped.  
"But-"  
"No buts. I want you to apologize to all the siblings, and return all the children. Or I'll let the Troll Queen redecorate your castle."  
"Now /that/ is cruel."  
"You don't have a monopoly on cruelty, Jareth. Now go."  
  
***  
  
After a dozen or so, the Goblin King didn't even look up any more. So it was really his own fault that what happened did. But one couldn't blame him all that much; half the siblings broke down sobbing, others swore at him, and the rest just looked very, very confused. It was easier to simply recite his spiel and send them on.  
"I'm sorry I stole your brother or sister. Please proceed to the next room, give the goblins their name, and they will be restored to you. Please specify if you would like to have all memories of these events removed. Thank you. I apologize for the inconvenience." He started to check off the name without even looking at it, but was interrupted by a slightly sarcastic and all too familiar voice.  
"Brother, Jareth, and I already have him, thanks." The Goblin King blinked and looked up. His jaw dropped nearly to the floor.  
"Sarah?"  
"Well, at least you remember my name. Might do you good to remember that I defeated you, too. What's all this about, anyway?" 


	2. Don't Care

Author's Note: Not a terrible amount of plot progression here, but there are a few explanations for things you probably weren't even wondering about yet. ;) And no offense is intended to either Indiana or 80's hair.  
  
***  
  
Jareth hadn't so much forgotten about Sarah as deliberately put her out of his mind. He had good reason, or at least what passed as good reason in his mind. He had watched the girl off and on for quite some time after she traversed his Labyrinth, out of a sort of perverse fascination. She was, after all, the only one to have defeated him.   
  
He happened to be bored one night when she was about twenty three, and took out a crystal to watch her for a bit. Sarah was in a bar with some friends, drinking a vodka martini that was shaken, not stirred.  
  
The story behind the drink wasn't as wonderful as one might have liked. The year Sarah turned twenty one, she and a friend had been on a James Bond kick. They went to a bar together and ordered 007's signature drink for the hell of it. The friend, who had gone on to marry a chiropractor and move to Indiana, (Why anyone would voluntarily move to Indiana, Sarah had never figured out,) hated it and never touched the stuff again. Sarah, on the other hand, quite liked it.  
  
Jareth didn't know that, but didn't really care either. He just cared that she was sitting in a bar with a drink and talking about him. And not in a favorable manner, either.  
  
"Oh, yeah, when I was a teenager my parents made me baby-sit my kid brother all the time. Once he got kidnapped by this insane Goblin King with 80's hair, and I had to go through this whole convoluted maze to get him back."  
  
Jareth fumed. She had wished the boy away; there was no kidnapping involved! Contrary to what the women in his life seemed to think. And he gave her the chance to get him back! She even succeeded!  
  
"Almost got killed a couple times in the process, too. And then there was all this crap with a peach..."  
  
All right, he was willing to admit that maybe the peach hadn't been among his best ideas. But dammit, he'd enjoyed that dance, and it had /almost/ worked...  
  
"Anyway. Just some supernatural kook. What about you?"  
  
After that, he'd stopped caring. If she thought so little of him, he wasn't about to waste time on her. Brat. She was a whiny little thing, anyway. He didn't care. Really.   
  
"You just keep telling yourself that, Jareth," his reflection had remarked, "Maybe one day you'll believe it." He'd broken the mirror, but had taken the advice, even if it wasn't soundly given. The Goblin King /had/ kept telling himself that he didn't care, and eventually Sarah was out of his mind. Until today.   
  
She had grown up in the two years since he had last seen her through his crystal. She stood before him in a pretty white blouse and black pants and her hair was wild; he got the impression she'd been halfway through combing it when she had been brought here. That wasn't his problem, although a little voice in the back of his mind remarked that it might have been more interesting if he'd gotten her a few minutes earlier. She was tapping her foot impatiently, and it took him a few minutes to get any words out.  
  
"Of course I haven't forgotten that you defeated me, Sarah. But does it really matter all that much? Seeing as you already have your brother, I suppose I'll just send you on back. Sorry for the inconvenience."  
  
***  
  
Author's Other Note: No, of course it isn't over yet. And remember, things aren't always what they seem Aboveground, either. Wait and see.... 


	3. Not Sorry

Author's Note: Just a really short chapter this time. Not a terribly humorous one, but there is plot progression. Some. And yes, Jennebeth is   
  
***  
  
"Wait just a minute!" Sarah exclaimed. Jareth had already turned away, but his head swiveled around to stare at her, owl like.   
"Yes?"  
"You can't send me back, just like that!"  
"I fail to see the problem, Sarah. You loath me, and I have other children to deal with."  
"I am /not/ a child! And loath is an awefully strong word."  
"Pardon. Regardless, I don't see why you wish to remain here any longer than nessesary. You were very happy to leave last time."  
"That was different."  
"Really. How quaint. Are you finished?"  
"Why are you in such a hurry to get rid of me?"  
"This "insane Goblin King" has other things to attend to, Sarah." She looked very confused, until she placed the quotation.  
"Oh, gods, Jareth..."  
"What, pray tell, is "80's hair"? None of my companions seem to be familiar with the term, and Jennebeth just laughed when I questioned her."  
"Jareth, I..." she faltered, then came back with anger. "What the hell was I supposed to say? A ridiculously attractive king put me through hell and seduced me all at once? Offered me my dreams when he knew perfectly well that I couldn't accept?"  
"Attractive, eh? Well, I must say I'm flattered..."  
"Dammit, Jareth, do you always have to be such a bastard?"  
"I am not illegitamate, thank you very much."  
"Damn you! Send me home!"   
"Gladly." And he did. She reappeared in front of her vanity, but spun quickly away from her mirror. The last thing she wanted to see was her own face, betraying the rage and tears within.  
  
***  
  
"Flaming moron. You were positivly on fire, you really were. I thought Jennebeth wanted you to make things up to these children, not make them worse." Jareth raised his head out of his hands and glared at his reflection.   
"She is /not/ a child."  
"Well, at least you could see that much. You never listened to the girl before, what inspired you to start now?"  
"I'm not supposed to be the villain anymore."  
"No, now you're just an idiot." Jareth threw a shoe at the mirror, shattering it. 


	4. The System

Author's Note: Wow, it's been forever since I wrote any fanfic, and even longer since I worked on this one. But I checked my email today to find new comments on a few of my other stories, which led me to reread several of them, which led me to come back to this. Not really sure where it's going, but hey. It's not going to be happy-fluffy fic, but I am hoping to keep at least a little humor in it. Here goes.  
  
***  
  
Despite his distress over his brief encounter with Sarah, Jareth had no choice but to continue his reparations. He would have preferred to lock himself up in a dark tower room and sulk for a few weeks at least, but Jennebeth promptly appeared with the Troll Queen in tow. So he returned to his list, running through the children without paying them much heed. An enchanted pen checked each name off as they were handled. After about two weeks, when each sibling was returned and Jareth was to the end of his list, the pen piped up.  
"There are a few I do not have checked."  
"Bring them in, then," Jareth said. He was slouched across his throne, wearing black and drinking vodka. A vodka martini, shaken not stirred, to be more specific, though the irony of that was lost on the goblin king. The beverage had been suggested by his reflection, who was alternating between supportive and snide. Jareth, feeling rather inclined towards alcohol, had been happy to take it.   
The first of the missed turned out to be dead from cancer. The reflection expressed dismay at this, but Jareth was cold. The second was female and had been in the bath at the time of her first turn, so the magic had bypassed her out of common courtesy. The third was male and had been in bed with his girlfriend. The magic had skipped over him too. The fourth had been killed in a car accident. The fifth had been in the process of giving birth to a daughter. The sixth was Sarah.   
When she appeared, Jareth had long since lost interest. The sight of her startled him so much that he waved a hand and froze time. Only he and the pen remained in normal temporal progression.  
"I handled her already," Jareth said in a tone of voice too cool and calm for even an inanimate object's sense of safety.   
"You didn't return her sibling," the pen squeaked.  
"I never kept her sibling," Jareth said, his voice even colder.  
"I am enchanted to check off names only if they are deceased or leaving with a sibling," the pen said carefully.  
"Change your damn enchantment then! She hates me! She doesn't want to be here, and I -" The coolness was gone.  
"I apologize. I am not set up to be able to change my programming. I can only check her off if you return her sibling or kill her."  
"Who enchanted you?"  
"Jennebeth, sir." Jareth growled and jumped out of his chair.   
"Jennebeth!" he bellowed.  
"You heard the pen, Jareth." Her voice issued from an unidentified place. Jareth plucked a crystal out of the air and threw it at the pen.  
"I apologize. My enchantment can only be altered by the original enchanter."  
"Like hell you apologize!" He reached for the pen, and in the process his gaze fell upon Sarah. She was wearing a terrycloth robe and had a towel wrapped around her hair like a turban. Her gaze was locked on something Jareth could not see; he had frozen time before she had had a chance to register her surroundings. A thought came to his mind. The goblin king flicked his wrist to send her back of his own power, and was met by an unhappy noise much like that a computer makes when being uncooperative.   
"I apologize. Once brought here by my magic, she can only be returned by my magic. I can only return her when she is checked off. I can only check her off if you-" Jareth's gaze turned dark.  
"If I return her sibling or kill her. I heard you the first time." He flicked his wrist and time unfroze. Sarah's gaze unfroze.  
"You!" Then she looked down and pulled her robe tighter.  
"What do you want now? You didn't -"  
"I did not bring you here. The magic did. Ask the pen."  
"You can only be returned when I check you off. I can only check you off if you get your sibling back or if you are dead." Sarah looked as if she was prepared to cry.  
"I won Toby already!" Jareth looked grim.  
"I know. The system is terrible, isn't it?" A long bladed knife appeared in his hand.  
  
In a mirror at the back of the throne room, Jareth's reflection cringed.   
  
***  
  
Author's Note: Yeah, yeah, wait and see. I will write more this time. I'm changing the genre somewhat, but you'll notice that it's not to angst. 


	5. Delicate Sensibilities

Author's Note: Oo, look, I wrote more.  
  
***  
  
Numerous thoughts were playing tag in Jareth's reflection's head while he watched his counterpart contemplate the knife. He wouldn't be that stupid, the reflection thought. He said himself that he isn't supposed to be the villain anymore. Maybe he's angry, but he still cares about her whether or not he'll admit it to himself. He's cruel, but he isn't that cruel. Jennebeth would...  
"Are there any more unchecked names on the list?" Jareth asked coolly. The pen, sounding rather nervous, answered in the negative.  
"Good." Jareth slashed the scroll of names to shreds, then threw the knife at the wall. It lodged in the stone with a decided twang. Sarah jumped, and the action caused the towel in her hair to come undone and fall to the floor.  
"You dropped something," Jareth remarked.   
"You bastard-"  
"Didn't we have this conversation already?" There were tears welling up in Sarah's eyes, but he reminded himself that he did not care. The goblin king drained his martini, dropped the glass on the floor, and got up. The glass shattered; Sarah jumped again. Jareth headed for a door.  
"Where are you going?" she demanded, her voice unsteady. Jareth stopped and turned.  
"Away from you. I wouldn't want to offend your delicate sensibilities with my perceived illegitimacy."  
"Jareth!" Her tone was plaintive now, just shrill enough to put a crack in his iron will.   
"I am going to see about getting you home," he said, rather more softly. And he walked out, leaving Sarah in the middle of the throne room wearing a terry cloth robe. The voice from the mirror served only to startle her further.  
"Personally, I'm with you on this one. Although Jennebeth tells me the pen got the wording wrong... It's not that he has to return the siblings, it's that he has to make reparations. In your case, reparations would entail -"  
"Something else to wear, for starters," she remarked dully, "What *are* you?"  
"Jareth's reflection. Trust me, I'm nicer." 


	6. Physics

Author's Note: Not much to say. It's another chapter. And there's some vague allusion as to who Jennebeth is. Thanks to my reviewers; it's nice to get feedback! And, as reviews wind up in my email, they're a great way to remind me about stories I might forget... Thanks, all.   
  
***  
  
Jareth's castle reminded Sarah of her high school physics class. In the class, all the laws were laid out on the page, and the practice problems seemed to be following them like good little children, but then someone tried to put actual numbers in, or apply the formulas to the basketball he or she was throwing. And then the principles would cackle their evil cackles, and the numbers would act like they had never even *seen* the laws so much as stooped to associate with them, and then the answers came out negative or imaginary or packed full with unsolvable variables like x and q and secant of 49.3 times B to the N.   
Jareth's castle was apparently in league with the numbers, in that it appeared to be a normal castle (as normal as could be expected when a goblin king was involved, at any rate) and then Sarah would turn a corner or open a door, and she could just *hear* the structures pointing and laughing at the laws of physics.   
The fact that she was wearing a bathrobe wasn't helping. The fact that her guide looked exactly like Jareth but was only visible in the mirrors that were not always frequently placed was helping even less. He was purportedly leading her to a room that contained a closet with clothes that would fit her.   
"Ok, there isn't another one until you get off the staircase-" the reflection began. Sarah stopped and stared at him indignantly.  
"Off the staircase. If this is anything like the last staircase-"  
"No, no, this one's normal. I promise. Just go up to the top and through the door. There's another mirror on the other side, and then we can figure out what he's done with the closet." She eyed the figure in the mirror skeptically.  
"Done with?"   
"Look, he doesn't get out much, and it's not as though the goblin girls are going to fit into dresses your size. He might have shoved them off into some strange pocket of space time or something."  
"The dresses or the girls?" That seemed to amuse the reflection.  
"Well, either, depending on his mood..."  
"Why does he-"  
"Have clothing in your size? He doesn't expect to lose these games, and apparently he liked you. Or he has a fetish for lace and was going to make you model. You'd have to ask him, frankly. I do my best to stay out of his head for the sake of my own sanity. Look, do you want to stand here in that robe all day? Not that I'm complaining..." Sarah flushed, pulled the robe more tightly around herself, and rushed up the stairs.   
  
***  
  
"Look, Jennebeth, this is different. Sarah is - Sarah - She already has her brother. She-" Jareth paused, having difficulty with the next word, "defeated me. There isn't anyone to return."  
"The pen got the wording wrong, Goblin King. You must make reparations. In most cases, that means returning a brother or sister. In hers-" Jareth growled.  
"She won! There are no reparations to make! Surely you of all people would understand what it means when the heroine gets what she wants!" Jennebeth smiled.  
"As a fairy godmother, Jareth, I'm concerned with happy endings. Sometimes the heroine doesn't know what she wants. Make reparations." 


	7. Feel The Love

Author's Note: Not terribly much in the way of plot progression, but Sarah does finally get clothes.  
  
***  
  
Sarah stared at the closet with a mixture of delight and disgust. There were several gorgeous romantic gowns, a few nondescript pairs of pants, some blouses, and a handful of what might only be called dresses in the loosest sense of the word. Some were almost entirely transparent, some covered less than most of Sarah's pajamas, some were skin tight to the point where they could just as well have been painted on. The reflection appeared to be mostly amused.   
"The funny part is that he doesn't even like women in spandex. If memory serves, those were what happened when he ran out of mead one night and started drinking tequila because he was already too wasted to remember that he could conjure beverages." Sarah selected a modest blouse and started rummaging for pants, because even the pretty dresses were a bit too revealing for her comfort level at the moment.  
"Tequila?"  
"Mm-hmm. Never let Jareth at tequila. His ego gets even bigger than normal, and I didn't think that was possible, and he has a tendency to make really bad wardrobe decisions. Once he- Never mind. Repressed memories." Sarah smirked.  
"I'll bet. So. Who's this Jennebeth woman?" She located pants and dropped them on a chair along with the blouse.  
"She's a fairy godmother. I'm not entirely certain as to whose, however; certainly not Jareth's. Don't you need underwear?" Sarah flushed.  
"Er..." The reflection disappeared momentarily, then returned.  
"Try the dresser at the back of the closet."  
"Thank you." She eventually emerged with the items balled up in her hands and stood there looking uncomfortable. The reflection cocked his head as though listening for something.  
"His royal tightness bellows. I'll go see what about while you change, yes?" Sarah nodded, and the reflection vanished.   
  
***  
  
Jareth was standing in his throne room glowering at the pair of goblins huddled in a corner. He instantly turned his attention to the mirror upon the appearance of his reflection, however.   
"Where is she?" he demanded, his voice as cold and hard as steel.  
"Sarah? I took her to get something to wear, seeing as you could not be bothered." The goblins stopped whimpering and stared at the king and the mirror. Not being of terribly high intelligence, they tended to forget about Jareth's emancipated reflection and as a result were surprised just about every time they witnessed it in action. Jareth appeared to consider for a moment before he spoke again.  
"Fine. You're so concerned, you baby-sit her. Jennebeth will not let me send her home, and I have other things to take care of." His reflection raised an eyebrow.  
"You were all hot and bothered when she turned up the first time, and then you sulked when you had a little fight, and now you're going to ignore her?"   
"I was NOT-"  
"Do what you like, Jareth, do what you like. I am only a reflection. What do I know?" The reflection faded away before the goblin king had a chance to respond.   
  
***  
  
"So?" Sarah asked. She was fully dressed and in the process of examining one of the prettier gowns when Jareth's reflection returned.  
"He is acting as a small child. He told me to 'baby-sit' you because he is otherwise occupied. I really don't know how we are going to get you home, because Jennebeth will not allow it until *he* makes reparations. Sarah shrugged.  
"I wasn't expecting too much. He's a bastard. He's the king of unfair. At least now I don't have to go to work."   
  
***  
  
Jareth sat in his throne being conspicuously despondent. He did not want Sarah in the castle because her presence was disrupting the carefully constructed barriers in his heart and mind. He had to keep repeating a mantra to the tune of "I don't care. She is just a stupid girl. I don't care," over and over again to himself, and even that was not as effective as it used to be. He was, in his mind, dangerously close to feeling emotion toward her, and that could simply not be allowed. She defeated him, she mocked him, and there was no way he was going to be *nice* about it. Even if she had said he was attractive.   
He wondered briefly what Jennebeth would do if he dropped Sarah in an oubliette and drank enough tequila to honestly forget about her. He wondered if there was that much tequila in existence. 


	8. Kiss Me

Author's Note: Once again I sort of let this one die, but here's another (short) chapter. Yeah.  
  
* * *  
  
"I dun think tha' would really... No, no, 's not that I don't *want* to - Are you abs'lutely sure this is just like Aboveground vodka?" Sarah was sprawled on a seat rather like those found in psychiatrists' offices, a half-empty bottle clutched in one hand and the other outstretched, fingers curled inward. A look in the nearby mirror found that hand twined in Jareth's reflection's hair. He was seated next to her, bent at the waist, his lips near her ear.   
  
"Absolutely. Ok, so maybe your kissing me won't prompt Jareth to get out of his sulk and do something, but it should at least turn him an interesting shade of red." Sarah giggled and pushed him away so that she could down some more of the bottle's contents.   
  
"I - hic - dunno. Dunno if we should - hic - piss him off 'nymore. 'e is all magic'n stuff..." In the week that Sarah had been Underground, she and the reflection had done countless things with the intent to annoy the Goblin King into action. Sarah had organized several of the dumber goblins (the cleverer ones had refused) into a choir that hummed Darth Vader's theme song whenever Jareth walked into the room; the reflection told his counterpart that he had seen Sarah naked and proceeded to give vague but tantalizing details; Sarah went around the castle at night leaving snarky notes; the reflection withheld his services for three days so that Jareth could not see himself when he looked in a mirror and was forced to groom himself blindly.   
  
Jareth spent the time avoiding Sarah and flinging obscenities at his reflection. Jennebeth failed to respond to his many demands that Sarah be sent home. He couldn't decide which was worse - having to put up with the pair's nonsense or the fact that it was perversely making Sarah seem even more attractive. The mental picture of her naked danced through his thoughts when he tried to sleep, leading to insomnia, leading to a decrease of clear thought, leading to the crazy notion that perhaps he ought to just cave in and be nice to her. However, every time he was set to go and work at "making reparations," he ran into that damned goblin choir.   
  
"I'm impressed that he's held out this long. His temper's not exactly slow burning... Look, he can't consciously do anything to hurt you, I checked with Jennebeth on that, so you've got nothing to worry about," the reflection assured her. He lowered his head again, his lips landing on her neck. Sarah was not particularly surprised with herself when she failed to stop him.   
  
The liquor figured into it, certainly, but she had also grown to quite like Jareth's reflection. He was just as attractive physically, and while he lacked that certain something that made Jareth both appealing and frightening, he had his own charm.   
  
It was odd; though she could only see the reflection in the mirror, his touch was quite tangible. The bottle fell to the floor, her other hand snaked to the back of his neck, and she turned her head to meet his kiss. At that very moment, Jareth, having managed to miss the goblin choir this time, opened the door.   
  
The position of the mirror was such that he could not initially see it, and therefore could not see his reflection either. But he could see Sarah clear enough, could see the bottle and her hands and her lips and her - tongue. All the emotions he had been suppressing for the past years came flying out all at once. A choked sound, half sob and half scream, escaped him before he turned and left. Sarah heard the noise and opened her eyes just long enough to see the pained, enraged expression on his face. A small part of her regretted causing him the pain, but his reflection was too good a kisser for the issue to plague her for long. 


End file.
